


Like a comet, pulled from orbit

by Atalto



Series: The Story of Us (Pebble's Shance Fluff Week fics) [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, I’ll put specific tags in the descriptions of each chapter, M/M, Post-War, Romance, Shance Fluff Week 2018, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-18 04:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalto/pseuds/Atalto
Summary: Life isn’t easy as defenders of the universe.Maintaining a relationship is arguably harder, and yet, they’ve made it work this entire time.(7 short stories written for Shance Fluff Week 2018)





	1. Flutter eyelash on my cheek, between the sheets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, and welcome once again to Pebble does Shance Fluff Week! I do hope you enjoy your stay.
> 
> Opening day 1 is memories/dreams, with which I chose dreams.  
> Enjoy Lance and Shiro cuddling in bed, I guess?
> 
> Thank you!!! <3

It was twenty to two in the morning, and Shiro was awake.

He wasn't uncomfortably awake though, like some nights where tiredness stung and buzzed behind his eyes like hornets. Or the nights when he tossed and turned, and had to leave the bedroom before he woke Lance up.  
Instead, he woke up weirdly comfortable, warm and supported, with Lance snuggled lazily into his side as he muttered in his sleep.  
Sure, he couldn't move much - Lance was practically stuck to him, with his arms locked around his middle haphazardly - but it wasn't like he was trapped. Truth be told, he didn't remember Lance coming to bed last night; Coran had sent him to bed early after several nights without sleep, and his hazy memories of Lance joining him extended to a press of lips to his forehead and a dip of the mattress next to him.

It wasn't even like he wanted to move, even though he knew he should. He should've be doing something productive with the time, planning tactics or looking over armour upgrades or something-  
But he was cosy, warm, safe.

An odd feeling.

"Hmm," he heard Lance groan next to him, and he rolled in his arms so that they were practically face to face, "Sh'ro?"

  
"I'm here," he replied quietly, running a hand through Lance's hair as the tension melted from the sleeping paladin's face, "I'm here, don't worry."

  
Lance shifted, crinkling the blanket around their legs as he rearranged his feet, and he snuggled further in, practically burying his nose in Shiro's sleep shirt. "St'p singin'."

Stop singing?

Shiro snorted quietly and moved his hand from Lance's nape to his cheek, careful as not to disturb the Paladin tossed across him. Lance didn't dream often, or at least, not usually as vividly as he appeared to be.

At least it wasn't a nightmare.

Most of the dreams they had, or at least since the war got bad, were less than stellar. Lance didn't like to admit it, didn't like to admit the images that ran across his eyelids most nights, but Shiro knew he suffered worse than he let on.

  
Sometimes he'd talk about them, and describe how Galra leaders would leer and glare, yellow eyes flashing in a blood-soaked darkness, edging closer and closer as shots just glanced off their chest plates. Sometimes the team would be there, sometimes they wouldn't, but the times when Lance had to describe their injuries in some attempt at scourging the images from his mind were the worst.  
There have been times when he's held Lance at godforsaken hours in the morning, shaking and screaming and sobbing, unable to take breath properly as he whispered a familiar mantra into the empty air.

The reverse was also true though, and Shiro couldn't count the times that Lance had run hands through his hair and wiped tears from his face with calloused thumbs after a flashback to the arena, how many times he's shouted himself hoarse at the shadows in the corners of the room.  
Lance was there for every single one.

So, it was a relief to see him happy, mumbling through snores with a dopey grin settling on his face. It was also stupid how pretty he looked, how relaxed he was in this moment, asleep in the light blue tint of the room.  
It almost didn't seem real.  
But then again-

At some point, whilst Shiro was lost in his thoughts, Lance had started humming.

It wasn't particularly loud or anything, more the broken whisper of notes through silence as he felt Lance hum against his chest. Unfortunately, it wasn't a tune he recognised; probably one from his home, sung to a rumbling harmony of crashing ocean waves and the buzz of tourists outside the window.  
Judging by the warm smile that drifted over Lance's face as Shiro mirrored the tune as best he could, he wasn't far off.

Then another snore cut through the quiet, harsh and snapped, before Lance's eyes fluttered open, catching Shiro's in a brief moment of alertness before falling open half-lidded.  
Time seemed to stop in that moment, as Shiro brushed a section of sleep-matted hair away from his face to see blue, shadowed but still glittering in the barely-there light.  
Shiro decided he could drown in blue, and love it.

"What time 'izzit?" Came an unhurried question, and Lance stretched a sluggish arm across him in some attempt to reach the clock on the table.

  
Shiro laughed, placing his hand back down flat on the bed gently. "Time for you to still get plenty of sleep," he replied, smiling as Lance froze to consider the infomation, before nodding in acceptance and settling back down. His head fell half on the pillow, half on Shiro's chest, and he had no idea how the younger man was comfortable in any way.

  
His eyes slid shut again, only to flick open and glare at Shiro. "Have you been watchin' me sleep?"

  
"I haven't been awake long," Shiro replied wryly, rolling his eyes affectionately, "you were dreaming."

  
"Oh, cool."

  
A beat.

  
"About what?"

  
Shiro shrugged, running his hand through Lance's hair again and grinning as he leaned into the simple touch. "Someone was singing, and you started humming. It was cute."

  
Lance nodded again, tilting sideways into the crook of Shiro's neck.

  
"I kinda' remember," he slurred, and Shiro could feel his eyelashes against his neck as he desperately tried to keep his eyes open, "you were singin' Mama's song."

  
A hum. "Is that a good song?"

  
"The best," Lance shot back, before grunting as he settled back into one position, "now go t' sleep."

  
The words hung in the air for a moment, before Lance's snores resumed, filling the space once again.

Sleep?  
He could do that.

* * *

 

"Good Morning, sweetheart!”

That was too loud for this early in the morning.

"It's not even early, Babe - you missed breakfast and we had to start training without you."

He missed training?

"Hey, don't worry! It's nothing important, you're allowed to have a down day, y'know? We have them all the time."

It took a clank and a clatter of a tray on the bedside table before Shiro even realised he had been talking out loud.

"Y'know, you're funny in the mornings," perked up the voice again, and Shiro groaned as he rolled over to face it, "no, don't move, it's okay!"

  
"What's the time?" He replied, aware of how rough his throat was, before opening one eye and promptly closing it again from the harsh light.

  
"A little after ten," came the reply, and two hands quickly appeared on his shoulders to push him gently back down onto the bed, "and Quiznak dude, let yourself wake up first, you're gonna' hurt your eyes."

Slowly, Shiro leaned back into the bed, letting his eyes open slowly. The room was blurry at first, all greys and whites mixed together in unfamiliar shapes.

Then he saw Lance leaning over the bed, warm smile on his face that soared up into his eyes, and he felt like he was falling in love all over again.

"Mornin' beautiful," Lance said cheekily, grin widening over his face as he sat on the bed next to Shiro's knees, "someone was tired last night."

  
"It's all that 'saving the universe' business," he replied, feeling a smile spread over his face as Lance's hand sneaks across the bed to land on top of his, "tires you out."

  
Lance rolled his eyes, huffing a laugh. "Tell me about it," he agreed, before moving over to the tray on the table, "Hunk plated you up some breakfast - I'm not sure how space pancakes taste lukewarm but he says they'll be okay."

  
As Shiro nodded, Lance picked the tray up in invitation, and he sat himself up against the headboard only for Lance to place the tray on his lap.  
To be fair to Hunk, it did look good; the pancakes looked almost exactly like Earth-ones, ignoring the green chunks in place of chocolate chips or blueberries. It had come with a steaming mug of 'space coffee', some slightly aniseed-tasting concoction that seemed to have the same caffeine levels as coffee, and Shiro had never been more happy to see a drink.

"How much have I missed?" He asked with a laugh, cutting off a piece of the pancake as Lance stretched in front of him.

  
"Not much!" He responded, sighing in relief once his elbows audibly clicked, "Keith's giving Pidge some knife tips, so I don't think you're missing out on much."

  
"Shame," Shiro said, swallowing the piece that was in his mouth before cutting another, "that sounds like it could have been entertaining."

  
"Nah, not really." Lance shrugged, leaning back on the bed over Shiro's feet.  "It was lots of stabbing and grunting noises whilst cutting the air. Keith isn't the best teacher, bless him."

Shiro nodded, taking another forkful of the pancakes; Hunk, it turned out, could work magic with food.

"Excuse me?" Came a sudden call from the bed, and Shiro glanced up to see Lance shooting him a shocked glare. "Who is the most wonderful boyfriend on the ship who brought you breakfast in bed?"

"I don't know," Shiro replied, faking obliviousness it just to see Lance's reaction, "I mean, Hunk made it, but I didn't realise we were dating."

  
Lance gasped in offence, tilting an eyebrow as Shiro grinned playfully. "What do you want?"

  
"Some pancake, duh," he shot back, rolling his eyes and reaching over to attempt to steal the fork, before Shiro whipped it away from him, "oh, come on! I just want a bite!"

  
"Haven't you had some already?"

Lance shrugged, and snapped a hand out to steal a piece of the pancake before Shiro could react. "Yeah, but I wanted some more," he said with a grin, before jamming the piece in his mouth.

  
"Lance, that's disgusting-"

"Hey, Shiro?" A voice suddenly called from outside the door, "'you awake yet?"

"Yeah!" He called back, shooting Lance a final glare as the door slid open, "is everything okay, Hunk?"

  
"Totally," Hunk nodded, fiddling with his fingers as he stepped into the room, "I was just making sure the breakfast was okay? And that Lance wasn't stealing too much of it."

  
"Hey!"

  
"It's great," Shiro replied, giving him a sincere smile as Lance pouted in the corner of his eye, "and no, Lance hasn't stolen that much."

"Double hey! I've stolen like, one piece?"

  
"Thanks," Shiro repeated, reaching over to ruffle Lance's hair playfully, "seriously, they're really good."

  
"It's no problem-!"

"So why can't I have more?" Lance groaned, butting into the palm  
of Shiro's hand.

  
"Because you ate three this morning!" Hunk argued.

"And?"

"Look," Hunk cut him off, grinning and shaking his head gently, "I've gotta' go deliver water to the training droids - if you want some more once you're up and dressed, I'll see what I can do."

  
Lance smiled widely at that, pushing Shiro's hand away. "See Hunk, that's why you're the best!"

"I have to agree," Shiro said with a nod, cutting up another piece of pancake, as he saw Hunk flush on the other side of the room.

  
"As- nice as this is, you guys should get up and sorted soon," Hunk started, suddenly straightening his posture, "I think Keith's gonna' cry if he has to keep attempting to teach Pidge."

"Alright, we'll be there in a minute," Shiro replied with a nod, as Hunk quickly turned out of the room.

"So, more pancakes later?"

  
"Maybe," Shiro shrugged, taking other bite of the pancakes.  
With a nod, Lance turned back to stare across the room, moving his hands from Shiro's knees to rest them in his lap.

Then he started humming.

It took Shiro a moment, but it was a familiar tune; lyrical, with a nostalgic air that only came from nursery rhymes.

"What's that song?" He asked gently, as Lance turned around with wide eyes.

  
"Nothing important," he replied with a flush of his cheeks, "a song my Mama used to sing - it's stuck in my head, y'know?"

"You were singing that last night," Shiro explained, taking a sip of the coffee and wincing at the displaced taste.

  
Lance frowned down at his hands. "Really?"

  
Shiro hummed in confirmation, setting the tray back on the table by the bed. "You were dreaming or something? You told me to stop singing and then started singing it yourself."

"Huh," Lance replied, "must've been a good dream then."  
"I'll bet."

There was a brief pause of silence, before Lance suddenly crawled up the bed, falling heavily into the crook of Shiro's arm.  
"At least I don't snore," he grumbled, muffled by Shiro's arm.

Shiro laughed, leaning down to press a kiss onto the top of Lance's head; Lance did snore, and fairly regularly as well, but he wasn't going to tell him that.  
"Of course not, Kitten," he replied, pressing another kiss onto Lance's hair whilst he huffed beneath him, "at least, not as much as Matt used to snore back at the Garrison."

They shared a laugh at the thought, Lance letting one arm fly across Shiro's stomach.  
"We should get up."

  
"I know," Lance shot back, shuffling so their cheeks were pressed together, "but I'm comfortable."

  
"And so am I, but-"

Lance butted his forehead gently, frowning in disappointment. "So, don't move!"

"Lance, no!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers lads, and stay tuned for more!!!


	2. Fever Humming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro gets an alien illness, and it turns to Lance to help him feel better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all!  
> Day 2 is here, with some ill Shiro for the prompt of Silence :D
> 
> There isn’t enough Sick!Shiro in the world tbh
> 
> Enjoy!!!

He could have sworn it was just a tickle.

When Shiro woke up, it was just a scratch in his throat, the rough cut of air as he breathed out and coughed into sleep-warm metal. Lance, thankfully, didn't stir, music still blasting through his earbuds like it was when Shiro got into bed the night before.

He sat with a grunt, stretching his arms with a click, and-  
He coughed again.  
Maybe his throat was just dry? It wasn't unheard of - Lance said he had a tendency to snore when he slept on his back - so all he wanted right now was a drink. A drink, and maybe some Altean painkillers or something for the small throb that was growing behind his eyes.  
It was then that a shiver erupted down his back, pricking his arms and legs with harsh goosebumps, stabbing like pins in his nerves.

Was it him, or was it cold in here?

Either way, he needed to get moving. They had a full day of training ahead of them; the Blade wanted to launch an attack in a few movements, and the Paladins needed briefing, needed informing on what was going on, needed-  
He stood, and it was at that point when the room decided to spin around him, oh boy-

No, he had to focus. He needed to change; his armour was in a pile in the corner of the room, undersuit neatly folded on top with Lance's characteristic crumpled mess beside it. The shower was calling, if just a cold one to focus him, calm his nerves, bring him back to reality whilst stripping off this cold sweat that had settled on him during the night, but his bones said he couldn't be bothered. He'd only need to shower later, after training - why bother showering when he'd only need another one later?  
For now though, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other, reaching out tentatively with shaking hands. This should be simple - he'd put the undersuit on so many times it was practically second nature to him, but then again-

"Kashi?"

At the call, he span around on the ball of his foot back to face the bed, flinging out a hand to stop himself. Lance was propped up on an elbow, glaring at him with squinted eyes.  
Shit, he'd woken him up.

"You okay there?"

"I'm- I'm fine," Shiro replied, fixing a grin as he made attempts to stand at straight as he could.

  
Lance raised an eyebrow, lips fixing into a drawn line. "Are you sure? Because fine-Shiro's don't usually stumble around a room like a newborn goat at seven in the morning."

"I stood up too quickly," Shiro shot back, letting his hand drop to the side as the giddiness mercifully began to leave him, "don't worry, love, I'll be back soon."

"Goin' for a run?" The unimpressed line on his face morphed into an easy smile, and Shiro relaxed on the spot.

  
"Of course," he replied with a nod, tugging the rest of the undersuit up over his torso, "I'll wake you when I get back, okay?"

All he received was a hum, as Lance fell backwards onto the bed under the sheets.

Now, all he had to to was get his armour on, and he was golden. The giddiness had left him, his head wasn't as bad, his throat still felt rough but he hadn't had a drink yet.  
Maybe he did just sit up too quickly.

* * *

 

Something was definitely wrong.

By his timekeeping, Shiro had been running for a little under a varga, and the lights that signalled the start of the 'day' had been up for at least half of that time. He'd had numerous water pouches, stopped to breathe several more times than he usually would have, and had taken different routes rather than his usual circuit, done all he could to remove this static that had settled in his bones.  
Nothing had worked, and the headache that he thought was gone had now turned to pounding against his temples. It was painfully rhythmic against his brain, a one-two-one-two-one-two-one-

The door to the dining hall slid open in front of him. He stepped in.

"Mornin' babe!" A sudden voice assaulted him from one side of the room; Lance, sat happily with one leg up on the stool next to him. Allura was forever telling him that he needed to take his feet off the chairs, and Lance was forever ignoring her.

"Shiro?"

That was Keith now, sat on the other side of the table. He looked concerned, frowning deeply in that way that he did whenever anyone seemed in the slightest bit wrong.  
It was cold in here too. Was something wrong with the Castle's heating?

"Shiro, can you hear me?"

Of course he could hear Hunk, why shouldn't he? It was hard not to, with how he was shouting over the large table. It was hurting his ears to be honest, and part of him desperately wanted to clamp his hands on his head and will away the pain.

"Shit guys," someone - KatiePidge - said, a horrified stage whisper to the others, "he looks awful."

Maybe now would be a good time to sit down, seeing as the floor was currently intent on rushing up to meet him.  
The others were doing very well to stay still in zero-G; he'd have to talk to Coran later to make sure the castle was still functioning.  
A hand landed on his forehead, warm and large and gentle, but the face that slid into his line of view was worried, anxious even.

  
"I don't know, guys," the face said, and two others joined next to him, "I think we should take him to Coran."

Maybe.

"Hey, Shiro? Babe?" The face - Lance, lovely Lance - on the right said, and a hand appeared in front of him, "can you follow my finger?"

Lance was very pretty.

The hand started moving, but Shiro didn't want to follow it; he wanted to look at Lance, beautiful Lance, with eyes like oceans.

  
"Nope, he's not following at all," Lance said a minute later, and Shiro frowned at the fear in his voice, "we- he really needs to go to the medbay."

Nah. He wanted to sleep now-

But someone had lifted him up, forced him to his feet by ducking under his arm.  
He was tired.

"Shiro, you can't fall asleep on us now, c'mon!"

Too bad.

"Babe, please! Can- can you hear me?"

* * *

 

The next thing Shiro was aware of was a sharp pain in his bicep, and everything suddenly snapping into colour.  
It was kind of painful really, his vision being in some kind of high definition before blurring into fuzzy shapes above him. He could see blobs that he assumed were faces, shadowed and moving vaguely around in the air.

"-Ro? Shiro, can you hear me?"

Maybe it sounded like the voice was coming through cotton wool, thick and muffled, but yes, he could hear Coran.

  
"Yeah," he replied as best he could, voice feeling like sludge in his throat, and the sighs of relief were audible even to his painful ears, "yeah, I hear you."

  
Coran, who's face was beginning to swim into view, broke into a wide grin, sitting back from the medical table that Shiro slowly realised he was lying on.  
The more he lay there, the more things came back to him; the ambient humming of the medbay, the Paladins fussing around him, Lance slowly but rhythmically squeezing his hand.

He felt terrible.

A hand appeared on his forehead, before pulling back with haste.   
"Ew, yes," he heard Pidge say to his right, "his fever has definitely broken, that's gross."

  
"It's just sweat, Pidge," Keith snarked across him, "It's not like it's going to infect you or anything."

  
"We don't know that!" She shot back, "Hunk?"

  
"I- I don't know," he replied, starting to sound frantic as he appeared over Shiro with some kind of gently whirring machine he didn't recognise, "I'm an engineer, not a medic-!"

  
"Guys, please!" Lance shouted, stabbing Shiro's eardrums harshly, and Shiro attempted to sit up before the room span again, "Coran, please, for the love of god, can you tell us what was wrong with Shiro before you jabbed a needle in his arm?"

That explained the sharp pain in his arm then.

Coran leaned back from the table, and he and Hunk helped ease Shiro into a sitting position. "Nothing serious, number three, not to fear," he said with a laugh, and Lance pouted where he was sat next to Shiro's leg, "just a case of the ol' garguon fever, I've seen it a million times."

  
"Garguon fever?" Pidge asked, cocking her head and squinting.

  
With a nod, Coran returned the syringe to a tray next to them, and moved back to the table with a datapad in hand. "A viral illness, but easily curable. And no, Hunk, it's not contagious, or I would have moved young Shiro here into quarantine Vargas ago!"

  
He handed Shiro the datapad, and an outline of what he guessed was his body popped up, complete with labels and decriptions.  
"It causes a, well, heavy fever," he carried on, gathering that no one there could read the Altean script, "along with confusion, giddiness, and fatigue, at least, those are the main ones. Sound familiar?"

  
"Definitely," Shiro croaked, laughing weakly at the thoughts of that morning, "slightly too much."

  
"So, is he better?" Lance suddenly piped up, finally standing to run a hand through Shiro's sweat-dowsed hair, "I mean, he's sweaty as hell, and, hey, how's your head feeling?"

  
"Better than it was."

  
Well, that was partially true. There was a still a tingle of static, a buzz of the turntable that the room seemed to be centred on, but at least the floor wasn't coming up to meet him now.  
"So, are today's plans-?"

  
"Cancelled," Shiro interrupted with a wry laugh, and Hunk visibly relaxed, "would- would it be okay if I went back to bed?"

Thankfully, Coran said yes.

* * *

 

"Right, so I've got food, I've got water, and I've got painkillers."  
There was a clunk as packets landed on the bedside table, and Shiro winced at the harsh noise.  
"So many painkillers."

  
"Lance, please?" He asked weakly, rolling over to see Lance fiddling with the packets, eyes wide in questioning, "can we be quiet?"

  
"Oh!" Lance said quickly, before quieting down almost immediately, "sorry."

A gentle shake of his head showed Shiro didn't mind, and Lance grinned in apology.

"Do you want a cuddle?"

  
"Why would you want to cuddle me?" Shiro replied, frowning as he rolled over once again, "I'm sweaty, ill, and sometimes I feel like vomiting - I can't imagine this is exactly something you'd want to cuddle right now."

Lance just shrugged, before ordering the ceiling lights to dim and creating a gentle blue floor light that flooded from the skirting boards, illuminating the room with oceans that didn't hurt his eyes like the harsh white light did.

"Because you're my boyfriend," he finally answered, as if it was the simplest thing ever, striping off his armour in the corner before meandering back to the bed, "and Coran said it wasn't contagious, so it's not like your gonna' get me ill."

Lance looked beautiful, glowing and alive in the soft blue light, and for once, he wasn't too delirious to notice it.

He opened his mouth to reply, but his throat rebelled, words getting stuck before he could speak. So, he settled on holding his arms out in invitation, a wordless plea, and Lance happily fell into his arms, securing blissfully cool arms around Shiro's middle. Lance then rolled them slowly, so that Shiro was lay with his back to the room and his face in the crook of Lance’s neck.

  
"Hey, Shiro-?"

  
Shiro shook his head, pulling one arm out of the hold to place a metal finger against Lance's lips. "Shush, it hurts."

  
The other paladin opened his mouth to apologise, only to close it again, settling on kissing his sweaty forehead. He could feel Lance moving his lips gently, words that he didn't need to hear to know.

_I love you._

In return, he pressed a kiss against Lance's collarbone - or, at least, where he thought it was through his undersuit - and weakly wrapped his arms around Lance's neck. The hum of the practically-silent room was a blessing to his raw ears, and the darkness was bliss to the migraine that had been growing behind his eyes. It was wonderful, a stark contrast to the pain of this morning, and he almost, almost, felt like floating.  
That may have been the drugs talking, but at that point, he didn't really care.

He felt Lance kiss his head once again, trailing calloused, trigger-familiar fingertips over the place where his lips had been moments before. He was warm, encompassing and gentle, and Shiro slowly snuggled into his chest, pressing his nose against rest-warm material.

"Rest," he heard Lance say in barely a whisper, nearly unaudible, and for once, he did.


	3. The life and times of Andy and Akira

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having custody of two alien kids wasn’t exactly what Lance thought of when he thought about his future with Voltron, but he’s not exactly complaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!!!!
> 
> Welcome to day 3, and for this I chose Family!!  
> I’ve been meaning to write Parent!Shance for a while, and i love the idea of them adopting alien kids whilst in space.
> 
> Hope y’all enjoy!!!

To nobodies surprise, the war lasted a long time.

Within that time, birthdays had passed tenfold - the fact Shiro was in his thirties now was something Lance frequently had to remind himself, along with the idea that he was less than a year away from that himself - along with marriages, anniversaries, births and deaths.

Sure, Earth wasn't as far away as it used to be, and Lance now had his Mama on speed-dial from halfway across the universe, but it was an endlessly weird feeling.

If it was one thing that they all had to learn, it was that war didn't just end with the fighting.

Oh no, the fighting ended quickly. Haggar's attempt at an uprising had ended with her death in a blazing, writhing, screaming ball of quintessentence, along with the destruction of the solar system that was caught in its blast, but it ended the fighting. Lotor assumed the control he promised he would, and nine years later had yet to go back on his promise.

Lance was twenty-one when the guns stopped, after only three years in space.   
The next day was weird, quiet. Everyone kept to themselves, filling the usual mission time with coding, programming, training.  
He recalled he spent the day teaching Shiro about proper skin care and ways to make his standout scars heal and fade, and asked him to marry him in the most informal way ever.

To his surprise, Shiro said yes.

Their wedding was a small affair- well, small compared to every wedding Lance had ever been to. Of course, his family was there, along with Hunk's Moms, and the Holts, and the Alteans who had spent the months leading up to it the most excited Lance had ever seen them. Keith doubled as Shiro's family and best man, toasting the happy couple as Varadero's waves crashed in the background.

The tide came in sooner than Mama thought it would; one of Lance's best memories was having their first dance in warm, ankle-deep seawater, with lasting salt rings on their suit pants and soaked socks to prove it.

But it couldn't last. War was war even once the fighting stopped, they all repeated as Allura hauled them back into space a week later.

"A wedding present," she'd explained afterwards, as she dragged Lance and Shiro down a side corridor away from the bridge, "Hunk told me married humans like their own space, and Father always kept this wing for visiting families." She winked slyly, pushing the door open to reveal a reception room not unlike those of Earth, all squishy couches and windows out into space. "We do hope you'll make use of it!"

Turns out that when you're friends with space royalty, the equivalent of a six-bedroomed house spread across three floors of one side of the castle was considered a 'small wedding present'.

"I could get used to this," Shiro had told him their first night there, curled up together in a bed bigger than anything Lance had actually seen outside of the royal chambers, "it's like our own little home, if you ignore the fact that we're in space."

"A minor detail," Lance had replied with a groggy laugh, pulling the duvet further over his shoulders, "like, no big deal. What are we gonna' do with all these bedrooms?"

Turns out Shiro did have an idea, and Lance quite agreed.

* * *

 

"Andy, for the last time, you're not taking the trials!"

Opposite him on the couch, the Galra huffed again, folding her arms and rolling her eyes away from Lance. "I'm telling you, Papa, Kolivan says I'm ready!"

She was being stubborn today.

"Yeah, for the intellect test, Andy," he shot back, leaning forwards over the small coffee table, "not the trials, not yet."

That was the only problem with having a kid who's main goal in life was to be a Blade. Andy was whip-smart, a seven year old Galra kit they'd found abandoned after the fall of the Empire, and Lance couldn't let the kid go without a family. It took Shiro a little longer to come round to the idea, especially a furred Galra cub with glowing eyes that had scared them in the middle of the night on many occasions.   
But Andy slotted in quickly, lighting up their lives with her specific brand of fiery attitude and steadfastness that Lance was sure she gained from spending too much time around Uncle Keith. The knife he gave her for her tenth birthday was her most prized possession, and the jokes that she would one day join the Blade turned to truth about a month after her sixteenth.

Andy grumbled angrily, caught between a purr and a growl of annoyance as Lance raised his eyebrow at her again.  
"But Pa-!"

"Andromeda," he interrupted, mouth thinning to a line as Andy's head snapped up in shock, "you're not joining the Blade yet, and that's final."

"I bet Dad would let me," she shot back, hands balling to fists at her sides as she shouted through gritted teeth, standing quickly to pace around the couch, "he understands-"

"Your father's even more against it than I am, so don't even try."

With that, Andy sat back against the couch, and her face morphed from extreme anger to utter dismay. It almost looked as if she was going to cry, huge yellow eyes glossy, and Lance felt himself melt. "But why not?"

This was why he was the worst parent for serious talks.

"Andy," he hummed quickly, moving to sit next to her, "most of it stems down to me and Dad being scared, y'know?"  
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her head to lean on his chest, whilst scratching her ears gently with his free hand. The tension in her evaporated immediately, and she grumbled again.

"But why? Why are you scared?" She asked again, still refusing to look up at Lance, "Keith said he'd be there with me, he's keep me safe."

He knew Keith meant well, really, he did.  
But there was no way in hell that would be possible.

"Sweetheart," he started, moving the hand from behind her ears down to her shoulder as she turned away with a huff, "do you know why Keith cries sometimes? When he comes back from missions?"

Andy shrugged. "Allura says it's exhaustion."

"It's also because he lost a team member," Lance replied. Sure, Andy was sixteen, old enough to deal with the fact that people died, particularly in covert missions where intel is valued over lives, but he didn't want to scare her. "These missions are dangerous, Andy, more often than not they lose Blades-"

"And?" Andy shot back, turning to face him so quickly he had to move to avoid being hit by a twirl of hair, "I know it's dangerous, I'm not a complete idiot, Papa!"

"What happens if you don't come back?" He asked, moving both hands to her shoulders to prevent her moving away, "what about me, and Dad, and Akira? I know, you want to leave someday, but right now?"

Before him, Andy's face fell, and her shoulders fell back down under his hands, ears drooping as her tail fell limply against the floor. "I guess." She sighed, tilting to press a cheek against Lance's hand. "Sorry Papa."

Shaking his head gently, Lance leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "And when you do join the Blade, take care of yourself? Don't do anything stupid, and follow Kolivan's orders, okay?"

She grinned at that, baring her wickedly white teeth as she rolled her eyes gently. "Ugh, fine-!"

"Lance?"

With a snap of his head, Lance looked up to see Shiro stood in the door way, leaning on the frame. He looked positively exhausted, hand running through his shoulder length hair. "Everything alright?"

"Fine now!" Andy said over her shoulder, ducking under Lance's arms to sit back against the couch, and Lance sent him a tired smile from across the room, "what's up Dad?"

"Akira won't settle down," he explained as Lance stood to meander towards Shiro in the doorway, "apparently I'm not reading the stories right."

Andy muffled a laugh, relaxing into the cushions, as Lance leaned on Shiro's shoulder with a breathy laugh. "What's wrong, love?"

Shiro shifted before him, folding his arms defensively over his chest. "Apparently, I'm not doing the voices right," he mumbled under his breath, averting his eyes when Lance looked up with a laugh.

"Seriously?"

Shiro gave a sharp nod, turning away with a pout. "I don't know what you do, love, but apparently he wants you. Please? He really needs to sleep tonight, Ryner wants him for lessons tomorrow."

With a click of his tongue, Lance pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Fine," he replied with a mock sigh, passing Shiro to start climbing the stairs up to the kids' bedrooms, "only because I love you, mind!"

He carried on up the stairs to Shiro's relieved laughter and Andy's joking jeers.

He loved his family.

Akira, thankfully, was fairly tired when he entered the vibrant, space themed room, tucking the blankets around him with one air of arms whilst holding the book open with the other. "Papa!" He called as Lance opened the door, dropping the starry blanket to hold out his arms, "can you read me another chapter?"

"Was your dad not good enough?" Lance asked with a gentle laugh, pulling the familiar stool over to the side of the bed as the Unilu boy shook his head exaggeratedly.

"Dad doesn't do the voices properly," he explained, holding the book out for Lance to take, "he doesn't do them like you do them."

Smiling wryly, Lance leaned over to ruffle Akira's hair. Akira hadn't been with them very long - a year or two at most - but he seemed very at home with his new family. The Unilu colony he had been part of was one of the more recent casualties of the war after shocks, and Akira was one of the few that Voltron had been able to save. Sure, it had been hard adjusting, but he had taken to the small family incredibly quickly.

"What are we reading today then?" Lance asked with a warm smile as Akira handed him the book. The front was covered in small cartoons, of people and mythical beings; this one was one of Akira's favourites, as he liked magic and myths and adventure. It was also a story Lance remembered fondly, seeing as this particular copy was one his mother had given him when they last went to earth, dog-eared and ripped from use.

"Harry Potter? Again?" He joked, and Akira grinned sheepishly as he settled into the bed.

"Do the voices," he reminded as Lance flipped the book open with a chuckle. He could hear Shiro and Andy downstairs, obviously deep into some competitive computer game.

"Alright," Lance replied with a small cough, readying himself for Hermione's falsetto on the _first damn line_ , "but only for you, mind."

* * *

 

Thankfully, it didn't take long for Akira to drop off to sleep. Lance wasn't really surprised; he'd been baking with Hunk all day, some mysterious items that Lance and Shiro hadn't been allowed to see, so he wasn't surprised that he was extremely tired.

When he reentered the living room, Shiro and Andy were busy on some game he didn't recognise, wildly shaking small controllers in an attempt to be the first person to cross a line.  
Andy had definitely bonded more with Shiro through the years despite their past difficulties, and Lance felt a warmth bloom in his chest at just the sheer amount of love he had for the scene.   
His gorgeous husband getting excited over dumb video games with his daughter was possibly one of the most heartwarming things he'd seen in a long time.

"Quiznak, Dad!" Andy shouted as Shiro managed to cross the finish line first, "You- you cheated, right? You must have done-"

Shiro raised an eyebrow as he fell back against the couch, holding the small controller up to eye level. "Language, Andy," he interrupted with a grin, "and how can I cheat motion control?"  
He grinned across the room over to where Lance was leaning on a back wall, face crinkling at the sight. "Still got it, right Lance?"

"Still got it," Lance replied, matching his grin as he walked over to sit between the two, "I'm joining, you all better prepare to get your asses kicked!"

Pouting, Andy crossed her arms across her chest, before rushing forward to reclaim her dropped remote. "Fine, but I'm gonna' be kicking your ass, not the other way around!"

Lance shared a look with Shiro, a knowing grin of no, you won't, before Shiro clicked back onto the same minigame from the menu. "Everyone ready?"

"Well, I'm ready," Lance replied, leaning forwards and balancing the controller in his hands, "are you?"

"Yeah, ready to _win_ ," Andy shot back, smirk covering her face as the countdown started.

"Go!"

* * *

 

"She spends too much time with Keith," Shiro admitted that night, after Andy had admitted defeat and padded up to bed, "It's like dealing with a mini-him sometimes."

Lance shrugged, rolling over a little bit so he could press his chest flush to Shiro's back. "She's louder than he is," he replied, and Shiro hummed in agreement, "It's like if Keith had a shit-ton more confidence and had a megaphone built into his vocal chords."

He heard Shiro laugh, pulling Lance's hand over his middle only to link their fingers together on the mattress; their wedding rings clinked together as he did, and Lance felt himself grin against Shiro's shoulder blades.  
"Maybe it's a Galra thing," Shiro said with a yawn, voice low and quiet in the silence of the bedroom, "Do you think Kolivan was like that as a cub?"

Lance shrugged again, giving Shiro's hand a gentle squeeze as his free arm wormed it way over Shiro's shoulder. A metal hand came up to meet it, loosely gripping his fingers as Lance pressed a kiss to the back of Shiro's neck. "Maybe."

He felt Shiro press against his chest in return, pulling his left hand up to his lips to kiss the back of his hand tenderly. "It's funny to think about," he admitted, and Lance could hear the smile in his voice, "I wonder if all Galra cubs are like that."

"One's enough, thanks," Lance joked, and Shiro clicked his tongue in fake distain, "between her and Akira, I think we're okay."

Shiro responded by kissing gently along the inside of Lance's wrist, stopping when his arm wouldn't reach any further over his body. "We need a holiday," he mused, staring to play with Lance's fingers absentmindedly, "It's our anniversary soon, do you think Hunk and Keith could have them for a week?"

"Well, Hunk would - he loves them, bless him - but I don't know about Keith-"

He was cut off by Shiro chuckling, kissing Lance's fingertips tiredly. "I'll make him come round, don't worry. How does a week on that resort planet sound to you?"

"I don't know," Lance playfully hummed, moving one of his hands to curl it in Shiro's hair, "what were you thinking of?"

"A week on the beach-"

  
A kiss to his knuckle.

  
"Breakfast on that terrace overlooking the harbour-"

  
A kiss to his palm.

  
"That private Suite on the top floor, where _no one can hear us_ -"

"That sounds like a promise, Shirogane, I bet you tell all the boys that."

With a tired laugh, Shiro rolled over to face Lance, still holding his hand, and leaned over to kiss the tip of his nose. "Only the ones I find cute."

"Go to sleep, Takashi," Lance shot back in reply, and Shiro lazily grinned, shuffling forwards to slot his head under Lance's chin, kissing Lance's collarbone gently.  
"Night, Lance. Love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

(The suite was booked by the next day, but only after Shiro bribed Keith into watching Andy for the week. Lance wasn't sure if he was excited, or terrified.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y e e t Andy and Akira are my mental children and I love them very very much.


	4. A breather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a slow day, and Shiro needs needs some reassurance after years upon years of war.
> 
> Day 4: youth/old age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> This one follows one from the last one a bit (they all kind of follow each other from here on out), and it’s basically just cuddling.  
> That’s like, all it is.  
> Enjoy!

It was a slow day.

No missions had come through, no requests for aid or supplies from the coalition, no random bonding missions sprung upon them at god-knows what time in the morning.  
Days like this were rare, rarer than they'd like. They hardly had any time to themselves these days, time taken over by events they thought they'd be done with once the war was over. Shiro had been looking forward to finally spending time with Lance, taking him to the beaches and mountains, to shows and shops and dancehalls; the war was near its end, yes, but they hadn't achieved any of that, much to Shiro's dismay. Some nights he didn't even see Lance before he slept, entering the bedroom after nightly rounds to see his boyfriend already curled up in the numbingly empty bed, sound asleep without even the barest of mewls when Shiro finally, finally, cuddled up next to him.   
Sure, he'd kiss him awake the next morning, eyes full of the signature sparkle that Shiro had loved from the very beginning, skin glowing and soft hands running through his sleep-matted hair, but part of him missed the sleepy kisses that punctuated his memories, at least before the final stretch began.

Today, however, it was silent.

He had seen Hunk and Pidge before, pitting newly designed Gladiators against Keith to test their strength; Allura was watching from a couch on the other side of the room as Coran lectured the three on the dangers of a jail broken gladiator.

However, Shiro found Lance curled up on the couch in their own little area, practically drowning in a thick, fluffed up blanket. It reminded him of a burrito, in some roundabout, sleep-deprived way, and it made his heart swell immensely. Lance looked just as tired as he felt, almost, at least, with the darkest bags under his eyes Shiro had ever seen, flicking through channels on the Altean television with sluggish movements and glazed eyes.

It was a soft sight.

"Sweetheart," he said gently, quietly as not to shock the other Paladin, "I thought I'd find you here."

Lance, instead of talking, shot him a shaky smile, placing the remote down as a finally translated Altean soap opera flicked onto the screen.

"Can I come in?"

Clicking his tongue, Lance held the edges of the blanket open, allowing Shiro to clamber in next to him, wrapping his arms around Lance's waist as the blanket settled down back over their shoulders. It didn't quite fit, leaving a gap over their middle, and Lance shivered against him before grinning.

"Come here often?"

"Only when there's cute people here," he joked in reply, tightening his grip around Lance as his head rested on his shoulder, "you're just my type, you see."

Lance laughed, turning his head to be face-to-face with Shiro. "All that talks makes you sound like a single man," he teased, and Shiro responded by pressing a kiss to the soft material at his shoulder, "what does a guy have to do to get a man like you to take him on a date?"

Rolling his eyes in mock thought, Shiro hummed slowly. "Well, you'd have to be shockingly handsome-"

"Check!"

"Have a fantastic sense of humour-"

"Definitely check."

"Be one of the best pilots of Voltron-"

It was Lance's turn to hum, scrunching his face up in thought. "I don't know," he said, drawing out each syllable, "I don't think I'm one of the best."

Shiro pulled back, shocked. "What?"

"Well," Lance replied with a sly grin spreading over his face, "It's hard when the man you really like is the best, no doubt about it."

With that, he leaned forwards again to press a kiss to Shiro's nose, laughing quietly at the blush that settled across his cheeks.   
"He's also super handsome," Lance followed up, punctuating his sentences with kisses over Shiro's face, "and a total dork, but it's endearing."

Shiro tightened his arms around Lance's waist, pressing his forehead to Lance's shoulder. "You're a dork," he replied, voice muffled against Lance's shirt, and another laugh shook through him.

"Your dork," Lance said through the laughter as Shiro looked up.   
Lance was beautiful, ethereal almost in the dimmed light.

He knew his eyes were blue, but not this blue. Like oceans on perfect summer days, bright and alive despite seeing war and pain and fear, alert and loving despite the tired creases that had settled on his skin; Shiro liked to think he'd seen them grow, formed from years and years of smiles and laughter that he'd like to think he was on the receiving end of sometimes.   
Sure, his skin wasn't as soft as it used to be - no amount of lotion and warm baths could prevent calloused from forming on fingers and palms, nor from scars and burns and pockmarks - and his hair - now chin-length and parted, but still youthful - didn't quite have the sheen he started with.   
But Shiro loved him, loved him dearly, loved him like he loved the night sky all those years ago, with a light, hopeful heart.

To be honest, Shiro wasn't much better himself; lazily grown-out hair was nestled in a messy pile on top of his head, a trick Allura had taught him one slow day after brushing it out of his face too many times, and whatever state Lance's cared for skin was in, his was much worse. He was aware of wrinkles, both from stress and laughter that Lance liked to kiss lethargically late at night, aware of mottled, uncared for scars that bumped and flaked and broke.

Lance's grin faltered slightly, falling from wide to a soft, tender smile.   
"You're thinking loudly again," he said quietly, snapping Shiro out of his thoughts as Lance reached over to stroke his chin with his free hand, "care to share?"

What is there to share?   
How beautiful Lance was? How much he wanted to saviour him, drink him in, hold him close?   
He felt almost as in love as he did when they first got together.

"Shiro?"

"You're beautiful," he said quickly, honestly, drawing back almost as soon as he said it, "I- Sorry."

Lance shook his head gently, smile returning as he leaned over again to kiss Shiro's cheek. "Don't apologise," he replied, voice barely above a whisper, "dare I ask what brought that on?"

Shiro sighed, squeezing Lance's middle again as the blanket was tightened over his shoulders. "It's gonna' sound ridiculous-"

Another kiss was placed on his other cheek. "C'mon, Shiro," he started with a laugh, "tell me."

"I feel old."

Lance's face suddenly changed, from a playful grin to a tender grimace. "Oh Shiro..."

Two hands ghosted over his face, blanket suddenly loose around his shoulders, and he winced as fingertips skirted around his eyes and forehead.   
"Shiro, you're not even thirty," Lance replied with a breathy laugh, "you're not even near old-"

"I feel it though." He sighed, unconsciously leaning into Lance's touch at the side of his face. "I feel- I don't know, tired? Exhausted, almost. I- I can't describe it."

Lance didn't reply, instead frowning deeper as his palm came to rest at Shiro's cheek.  
"Life isn't over, Shiro," he started, and Shiro watched as his eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, "I mean, now we have more time, it's pretty much just begun."

"What time?" Shiro shot back with a huff, feeling his own face fall, "we're still fighting, still constantly on edge, always waiting for an alarm or a distress call. War doesn't end, Lance, and it's been going on for so long now, that—"

He stopped, shaking his head angrily.  
"Sorry for snapping," he quickly apologised, and Lance shook his head gently in reply.

"Don't apologise," he said easily, "I know what you mean."

Part of Shiro didn't honestly believe him, but couldn't find the words to explain quite what he was thinking.

Was he really the only one who couldn't remember a peacetime?

"But you're not old," Lance quickly replied, and Shiro gingerly looked up to meet his eyes, "we're young, really, there's still plenty of things for us to do!"

Shiro frowned, reaching up to take one of Lance's hands in his and run a thumb over scarred knuckles. "Like what? I'm gonna' need to tell Allura about anything you're planning, y'know-"

"But, Shiro, sneaking out for shit is part of the fun!" Lance interrupted with a grin, "man, you must have been a terrible student."

"Like what, then?" Shiro quirked an eyebrow, feeling a small smile spread over his face, "what were you thinking of?"

Lance thought for a moment, face twisting in thought, before-

"The beach planets!" He exclaimed, grinning widely and squeezing Shiro's hand tightly, "and the mountains, and forests- we literally have the universe at our fingertips, Shiro, along with the fastest travel outside of teladuvs. We could just, I dunno', throw a dart at the star map and see where it lands!"

"What if it's a death planet?" Shiro countered, and Lance rolled his eyes.

"Then we just try again, simple as!"

Across from him, Lance was now fully awake, eyes shining with possibilities and ideas.  
God, he was beautiful.

"You seem to have this all planned," Shiro replied with a gentle laugh, meeting Lance's responding nod, "but what if something happens? That we can't get off the ship?"

With a playful shrug, Lance winked, leaning over and gently pressing a kiss to a patch of skin on Shiro's jaw.

"Somethings we don't have to leave the castle for, dumbass."

Oh.  
Oh, okay.

"And what exactly did you have in mind there?"

Lance shrugged again, kissing him once more before moving back and grinning obliviously. "I don't know, what were you thinking of?"

"You know exactly what-"

"Because I was thinking about movie nights and romantic meals of Hunk's cooking," he interrupted, winking again as a firm blush decided to claim Shiro's face, "what else could I possibly mean?"

Shiro, apparently, couldn't talk past the spluttering of broken words that he was trying to get out, and Lance just laughed in reply.

"One thing though?" Lance asked once his laughter had died down, and Shiro hummed in question, "promise me you won't say you're old again- at least, not until you're actually old."

"And what constitutes old?" Shiro asked sarcastically, earning him a gentle hit on his arm.

"You know," Lance said with another shrug, grabbing the end of the blanket to tug it over them again, "old."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Lance shrugged again, before pulling Shiro in for a deep kiss; his head tilted slowly, locking their lips together and humming gently into his mouth as Shiro pressed back.

"Old," Lance said breathlessly once he drew back, "whatever you're not, okay?"

He couldn't really argue with that.

And as Lance pressed his lips against Shiro's again, running a tongue over his bottom lip, he discovered he really didn't want to.


	5. Cold snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A training exercise leaves the team deserted in a snowy wilderness, and Lance gets cold during watchkeeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t think I’ve done a single chapter yet without cuddles, oh well.
> 
> I chose Cold for today’s prompt!!  
> Also: I know nothing about the science of food dye. Just a disclaimer before you slate me.
> 
> Enjoy!!!

"Why are we doing this again?"

For what felt like the millionth time, Shiro sighed, leaning back against the tree trunk behind him in as the fire finally caught. "We need emergency training," he repeated, watching as Pidge deflated where she sat, "incase we crash or something, like when we all got split up from the corrupted wormhole-"

"Or if the lions break," Hunk chimed it, sitting back from the now roaring fire with a satisfied smirk, "and y'know, we can't fix them or something."

They had been in this forest for barely a day, and Shiro was already tired.

Allura has sworn it was important, prepping them with survival skills for the worst case scenario, but sitting in a snow covered forest, heating crystallised ration bars over a fire that was hardly enough to heat one of them, let alone six, wasn't exactly how he thought the training would go. Sure, he was okay with the cold, and could deal with it surprisingly well, but listening to his teammates complain about the cold for the past twelve Vargas was starting to get grating.

"Well let's just hope our lions never crash," Lance snapped with a shiver, tightening his arms around his middle, "because this? This is hell."

Next to him, Keith rolled his eyes with a huff, jabbing the fire with a long stick he'd found out of boredom. "We know, Lance, you've been saying that since we got here-"

"Because it's true!"

"We know it's true," Pidge growled, and Lance raised an eyebrow sceptically, "but can you like, shut up about it? It's really-"

"Guys!" Shiro interrupted, before sitting back and rubbing at his temples with a huff, "we're here now, and we're going to have to stay here for the next day or two, so can we all just stop complaining and deal with it?"

A silence fell across the group, only punctuated by the crackles of the fire in the middle of the ring.

"Oh crap," Hunk joked quietly, "boss man snapped."

The snow had started to fall again, at some point between Hunk starting the fire and Lance and Keith arguing, thick lilac flakes falling from the sky and setting on branches and the top of their tent. It had started covering their tracks already, sole patterns indistinguishable from snow drifts.

"Did we work out why the snow's lilac?" Keith mused, putting his hand out to let the flakes collect and pile on his palm.

"The rivers get dyed purple from a chemical in the bedrock," Pidge replied quietly, eyes watching a flake slowly tumble to the ground, "it meets the oceans, and dyes them in the process."

"I just wanna' know how the chemical enters the precipitation with the water," Hunk said with a breathy laugh,  moving back to sit on the log next to Pidge, "like surely it should have a different boiling temperature? It's a salt, right?"

Pidge shrugged in reply, mounding some snow in her hands to pat into a ball-like shape. "Maybe it's not, alien planets are weird."

Lance jerked, suddenly looking horrified as he snapped his head away from collecting flakes in his mouth. "It's not poisonous, right? I'm not gonna' die?"

"I think you're safe, Lance," Shiro replied, letting a small smile grace his face at his boyfriend's antics, "just don't choke or something."

Across the circle, Lance shot him a wide grin, before tipping his head back again.

"Y'know," Keith said quietly, leaning down to trail a gently shivering finger through the snow, "I've never seen snow before - is this like it is on Earth?"

Hunk nodded, clambering up to walk around the circle and sit next to him, pulling him into his arms as a blush settled across his face. "Exactly the same dude, just white!"

"Hey Hunk? I'm cold too?" Pidge moaned, and grinned as Hunk opened up his other arm to allow her to snuggle into his free side.

"Hey, Hunk-?"

"You have your own boyfriend," Keith shot back, half muffled from his position in Hunk's side, "stop stealing ours."

Shiro grinned sheepishly, opening his arms wide in invitation, and Lance happily ran over to bury himself in the embrace.  
"Sorry," he mumbled, "I know you're supposed to be my number one and all but-"

"No offence taken," Shiro replied with a shake of his head, "Hunk's hugs are unparalleled."

On the next log over, Hunk flushes, Pidge and Keith both nodding in agreement. "Aw, guys, that's sweet of y'all-!"

"This is sweet and all, but what are we gonna' do about tonight?" Pidge interrupted, shuffling to remove her face from Hunk's side, "like, are we gonna' have a guard rotation? Each do one night?"

Lance squirmed in his arms, resting his chin on Shiro's shoulders as Shiro hummed in thought. "Maybe if we do a few hours? We all need rest, it's not fair to expect you all to go all night without rest in an unfamiliar territory."

A nod of agreement met him from Keith and Pidge, Hunk humming as Lance grinned up at him.

"I'll take first watch," Keith offered, shrugging out of Hunk's hold to stretch and rest his bayard in his lap, "I'm not tired anyway, you guys get some rest."

"Wake me up in a few hours," Pidge replies blearily, standing and making her way over to her tent with Hunk in tow, "I'll go after you."

Keith nodded, shooting her a smile before looking back into the fire, hands folded in his lap.

"You okay, Keith?"

Keith turned to Shiro with a nod, smile appearing on his face again. "I'm fine," he assured with a nod, "get some sleep, or at least let Lance lie down - I think he's falling asleep as you talk."

There was a shuffle in his arms. "'M not sleepin'."

"Sure," Shiro replied with an affectionate eye roll, picking Lance up in a bridal style lift as he stood, "wake me up if you need anything, Keith, stay safe."

Keith smirked confidently, dematerialising his bayard. "Don't worry, it'll be fine."

* * *

 

Shiro was woken up a few hours later by Hunk, head gingerly poking through the entrance of their tent section. "Your turn, dude," he whispered with a tired, bleary smile, "nothing to report, it's pretty boring out here, so have fun."

By the time he's separated from Lance, thankfully with only the smallest of complaints, Hunk was back in his tent, leaving him alone in the clearing.

The clearing itself was different now; it felt darker, more imposing, despite the sun having set well before they retired the previous night. The fire looked smaller almost, not quite the blazing light he remembered it being, and the fern-like trees seemed closer than ever. Wind was howling through the trees as he sat himself on one of the now slightly damp logs.

This was fine.

He just had to sit here, on watch, for two hours.

This was fine.

* * *

 

Two hours seemed to pass quicker than he thought they would.

It felt like he had been out for no less than half an hour before he heard a sleepy Lance stumble out of the tent with a yawn and a stretch. He looked strangely cute, all bleary eyed and mussed up hair sticking in all directions.

"-go to bed," he finally tuned into Lance talking, smiling gently as he meandered over, "are you listening?"

Shiro huffed, opening his arms up as Lance moved to perch on his lap. "Excuse me for being blinded by an angel."

"An angel?" Lance squawked, laying his arms over Shiro's shoulders as hands moved around his waist, "I feel more like a demon right now - dumbass me didn't think that my face masks were essential items."

Shiro shrugged, looking around the clearing one more time before looking up at Lance with a fond smile. "You look just fine to me-"

"Yeah, but I feel gross," Lance replied with an affectionate roll of his eyes, "and you definitely need some sleep."

"Why?"

At the cock of his head, Lance laughed gently, moving one hand over his shoulders to play with the short, shaved hairs on the back of his head. "You're being soppy," he explained, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, "and you're only ever soppy when you're too tired for your leader-brain filter to work."

Shiro flushed, a warmth spreading through his body despite the cold temperatures of the night. "Touché," he replied with a smile, and glanced around the clearing again.

In his arms, Lance hummed in confusion, face falling to a frown. "So how about you sleep?" He suggested, "it's my turn to take watch, you've got two hours before morning."

"I'm afraid I don't think I could sleep," Shiro replied honestly as Lance clambered off his lap and onto the seat next to him, "I keep hearing things, and I-"

Lance hummed in acceptance, shuffling to get comfortable on the log. "Alright, but you're welcome to sleep if you get tired, don't feel like you're being rude or anything."

With a nod, Shiro folded his hands into his lap, before reaching down to retrieve a dry log from a box and throwing it into the dwindling fire.

Lance had started shivering.

He hadn't noticed right away, but Lance's teeth had chattering and clacking in the quiet of the clearing. He had also wrapped his arms around his upper body, obviously trying not to let it show that his entire body seemed  to be moving; he had been betrayed by his legs, heel hammering against the undergrowth in irregular rhythms.

And yet, his armour seemed intact - no cracks or tears in his flightsuit.

"Lance, are you-?"

"I'm fine," Lance snapped, before quickly fixing a grin on his face, "It's just a bit unnerving out here, y'know?"

This wasn't Lance's usual reaction to anxiety. If he was truly anxious, he'd be talking about anything and everything, question after random fact.   
Instead, he was sat pretty much silently, save for the clacking of his teeth and the thumping of his heel on the ground.

"You're cold, aren't you?"

With that, Lance's head snapped over, eyes wide. "No!" He argued, hands falling to his side, "it's just- just a bit chilly, y'know? I'm not used to these kinds of temperatures - I hadn't seen snow before the Garrison Shiro!"

"But shouldn't your suit be compensating?" Shiro asked gently, shuffling closer to Lance as the shivers began to course through his arms again, "I thought the environmental system was supposed to keep you warm."

Lance laughed uneasily. "Yeah, I kept meaning to ask Coran about that-"

"Your suit's broken?"

With another shiver, Lance grimaced. "Not broken, just, not completely working? I must have knocked the regulator or something, I don't know-"

Before Lance could finish, Shiro stood and ran to the tent. Their sleeping bag was still on the floor, haphazardly angled from where Lance had clearly crawled out of it earlier.  
If he remembered correctly, it had a zip in the side, turning the insulating bag into a sheet.

Ah, bingo.

"Shiro," he heard Lance call, confused, "why do you have the sleeping bag?"

Shiro grinned, sitting back next to Lance on the log as he pressed himself flush to his side. "It might double as a blanket," he explained, throwing one side of the bag over Lance's shoulders and pulling it around over his front, "might warm you up a bit."

He tugged the other end over his own shoulders, and settled his hands back in his lap once the end of the blanket was clear around his front. "That better?"

Lance nodded, grinning gratefully as he reached over to slot his fingers with Shiro's. "So much better," he said quietly, and Shiro breathed a deep sigh of relief at the new lack of tremors in his fingers.

Slowly, Shiro let his head fall onto Lance's shoulder, as a gloved hand moved up to curl through his forelock. "Go to sleep, Shiro," he heard Lance whisper, "I'll watch, you sleep."

For once, that sounded like a good plan.

* * *

 

It felt like he had hardly slept an hour when Lance shook him awake again.

"Shiro, Shiro, look," he hissed as Shiro blearily opened his eyes, "the sun's rising."

Sure enough, the orange sun was streaming through the snow covered trees, causing the snow to glitter and sparkle in the light. Some of it was melting, dewdrops lazily dripping off the edges of leaves as the black sky above them morphed into a gentle lilac.

"It's beautiful," he slurred, grinning up at Lance as he weakly squeezed his hand, "what a beautiful sunrise."

He felt lips on his forehead, a gentle pressure on his skin.  
"Should we rouse the troops?" Lance asked jokingly, putting on a bad imitation of a drill sergeant.

"Nah," Shiro replied, leaning back on Lance's shoulder, "give them five more minutes."


	6. Familiar shades of peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Garrison hasn’t changed since they left, apparently. Only the faces, and the attitude, apparently, which Lance discovers when Voltron in invited back.
> 
> Also: Shiro doesn’t like speeches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t tell me this counts as RPF I literally only stole their surnames bc I’m tired and uncreative leave me be.
> 
> Also I like highkey love this one??? I have so many headcanons about the Garrison post-the Trio’s disappearance, and this was kind of an excuse to write them all down.
> 
> Enjoy!

To be fair to it, the Garrison hadn't changed _at all_.

Apparently, in all the years they'd been away, the biggest changes the Garrison had made was replacing Iverson with some younger model who met them at the security checks with a firm handshake and broad smile as he led them through the main barracks.

The idea was that, now Voltron was free to go back to Earth in the peacetime, the Garrison was holding a special ceremony for them, a combination of a late graduation and a 'welcome back'. They were all being given honourary titles, medals, and positions, in some attempt at cleaning up after the mess they left behind.

It was a weird feeling, Lance thought, to be back a hero rather than just another deadweight cadet.

"You're telling me," Shiro replied with a laugh after he explained it, head moving back to Lance after shooting a grin at some rebellious cadets that had sneaked out to get a peak of the mythical Voltron paladins, "I've been here as both a sergeant TA and a pilot, and I still feel like I'm expected to salute every time a professor walks past."

"It's hard to believe you were ever that young," Lance whispered with a snickering laugh, "like, you're sure you didn't come out of the womb with an eight-pack and facial hair?"

Shiro barked a laugh, beginning to to turn a brilliant red and slowly covering his mouth with his hand as Pidge gave them a glare. "Believe it or not, the eight pack didn't come until Kerberos, and the facial hair didn't start until I was twenty."

"Seriously?"

"Yup." He nodded, cutting himself off as the new Commander led them into a wide meeting room. "I was skinnier than you - didn't bulk up until Commander Holt put me on a heavy protein diet for six months, a thing I would recommend to no one-"

That was when Keith's elbow quickly connected with Lance's ribs, and the Commander coughed awkwardly in front of them.

To be fair, he looked the part, even if Lance had his doubts that he was old enough to be Commander in the first place; he hardly looked older than Shiro, nowhere near as rugged and ancient as Iverson was.

"It's an honour to have you all back," he started, extending a hand to each of them in turn as they filed onto a fairly long couch, "even if you don't stay for long, closure's always a nice thing to have."  
He chuckled to himself, settling back in his seat whilst folding his arms. "So, any questions before we start?"

"What happened to Iverson?" Hunk asked immediately, shooting up before relaxing back into the couch, "I mean, I don't know about you guys, but I don't recognise any of the professors we saw. So, what happened? Did they all just like, retire?"

The new Commander grimaced, and Lance shot Shiro a confused glance as a cold metal hand laced with his. "Well, he retired shortly after the disappearance of you three as cadets," he explained slowly, "but between you and me, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter; the disappearance of a special observance kid, as well as three more five months later, one of which being a faked persona, really didn't look good in the public eye. Combine that with a resurgence of interest in the heavily classified Kerberos failure, and, well," he stopped, running a hand through his hair, "there wasn't much of a decision to be made."

"And the rest?" Shiro asked, leaning forwards in his seat.

"Went with him, particularly after questions were asked about the 'comet in the sky' that was visible all the way to Las Vegas."

That 'comet in the sky' had to have been Shiro's escape pod, and Lance wasn't really surprised; it nearly blinded him from his position on the Garrison rooftop, and he gave Shiro's hand a squeeze at the memory.

"So, me and my new team stepped in, with complete transparency, a fresher bunch of faces, and a metric shit-ton of inherited paperwork," he said with a small smile, "Commander Keaton, at your service."  
Keaton gave a lazy salute, sighing deeply as he shuffled some papers around on the desk in front of him.  
"Would you like tomorrow's itinerary?"

Lance nodded, aware of his friends copying him in the corner of his eyes.

"You'll be given rooms in the teachers wing once you leave here, each one preped with uniforms and their own bathrooms," Keaton explained, slipping a thin pair of glasses on to read from a wonky piece of paper, "the next morning, you'll be retrieved by a member of my team - don't worry, they know what they're doing-"

"So, what's gonna happen at the ceremony?" Pidge asked, running a hand through her hair, "like do we need to do a speech? Or are just gonna' be sat there for a few hours with smiles on our faces whilst someone else talks?"

Keaton just raised an eyebrow, eyes slowly moving over to Shiro who was slowly flushing.

"I think I'm giving a small speech tomorrow at there ceremony," he said calmly, but his grip on Lance's hand tightened, "it's nearly perfected, I just need to add the finishing touches."

"You've got all evening," Keaton replied, smile returning to his face, "take time to relax, all of you, it's gonna' be a big day tomorrow."

 

* * *

 

If Lance had realised the higher ups had such nice rooms, he probably would've tried a bit harder to earn one as a cadet.

Rather than the familiar, standard issue bunks, there was a plush double bed in the centre of the room, covered in fresh-smelling linens and plump pillows that Lance felt he could pretty much melt in. The lighting was soft rather than harsh, and the bathroom had lights around the mirror as well as a working shower.

All in all, it felt a little bit like heaven.

"So, a speech, huh?" Lance teased, craning his neck up from the pillows to glare at where he could see Shiro finishing up shaving in the small bathroom, "what have you got so far?"

With a surprised hiss, Shiro fumbled with the razor, whipping it away as he thumbed over the new small cut. "Thanks Lance," he replied dryly, hissing again as he gently passed some water over it, "let's hope that's healed by tomorrow, shall we?"

"You're evading the question," Lance countered with a growing smirk, "what's in your speech?"

Shiro hummed, face crinkling as he washed the razor under the tap water. "It's- it's a work in progress," he said shakily, placing the razor in a cup on the mirror shelf, "it'll be fine by tomorrow, I promise-"

"You don't actually have one, do you?"

Halfway to getting a cloth to clean his face, Shiro froze. "How-?"

Lance laughed gently, watching as an embarrassed flush began to crawl up his neck. "You went all 'hardcore scary leader' when Keaton asked about the speech," he explained with a grin, "you were totally relaxed until then, so something must have been up - I thought maybe you thought it was crap, but then you wouldn't let yourself create anything crap, so it must've not been completed yet."

A sigh echoed from the bathroom, before Shiro awkwardly padded out with a freshly shaved face and familiar too-long grey pyjama pants dragging on the floor. He grimaced, wandering over to fall on the bed next to Lance. "I was hoping to just wing it, to be honest - that's how I survived the Kerberos press releases."

"Seriously?" Lance bawked, rolling onto one side to face Shiro and propping his elbow on the pillow, "you never planned any speeches? Even the 'ordinary people do brilliant things' one?"

"You remember that?" Shiro asked, slowly shuffling towards Lance so his head was beside Lance's elbow, "I didn't really think any of my speeches were that special-"

"Of course I remembered it!" Lance replied excitedly, "I quoted it in my application to the fighter pilot programme - I only learned later that putting quotes in applications is like, the worst mistake possible, but I guess I thought it was cool."  
He laughed gently, using his left hand to run a thumb over Shiro's now smooth jaw. "Even if you do wing it, you'll be great."

If possible, Shiro flushed harder, tilting his chin slightly into Lance's touch. "I have a plan, though," he admitted, moving one hand up to wrap metal fingers around a thin wrist, "you'll clap and laugh in the right places for me?"

"Of course," Lance replied with a grin, moving off his elbow to lie face to face with Shiro, "that loud as quiznak applause at the end that sounds like that one embarrassing Dad at a school play? That'll be me."

Finally, Shiro cracked a smile, leaning forwards to place a chaste kiss on Lance's lips. "Thank you, it means a lot."

"I'm the blue paladin, Takashi." Lance pressed a kiss onto Shiro's forehead, sitting up to pull the blankets of the bed over the two of them. "It's what I'm here to do."

* * *

 

The next morning was wild.

Lance woke up to the angry beeping of the Garrison issue alarm clock, heralding seven o'clock like some kind of danger hour. There was sunlight streaming through the gaps in the blinds, throwing long bars of light across the room so Lance could see the dust swirl in the air.

"Lance?"

"What?" He groaned, rolling over to see Shiro looming over the bed and squinting in the light.

Shiro laughed gently, smile forming on his face as he ran a hand through just-washed, fluffy hair. "It's time to get up, I'm afraid," he said, leaning down to slowly peel the sheets away from Lance, "at least, it is if you want time to get ready; I figured you would."

"I would call you an angel," Lance grumbled, gradually bringing himself to a sitting position, "but seven in the morning isn't a time that should exist, like, at all."

"Sorry, sweetheart," Shiro said unapologetically, "it's gonna' be a long day."

With a final grumble, Lance swung himself out of bed, standing with a stumble as Shiro rushed to his side. The bathroom wasn't too far, just enough for Lance to beat the head-rush after waking up.

A shower was always the answer to feeling human again.

"I've set everything out for you," Shiro explained as Lance staggered out of the small shower cubicle, leaning on the doorframe nonchalantly and handing him a towel whilst Lance started to brush his teeth, "we've been given uniform shirts by the Garrison."

Lance hummed, spitting toothpaste into the small sink. "Like the Commander gear? Or are we still cadets?"

"Commander grey," Shiro confirmed with a grin, "and with decoration to boot - I figured you would need some help."

"I thought the whole point of this was that they were handing us medals?" Lance asked, grabbing a can of spray deodorant from the small mirror shelf, "I know you've got some from Kerberos, what about the rest of us?"

"Service honour," Shiro confirmed, frowning in thought, "some specially created ones for exceptional work, and then we're getting the Voltron medals and your honourable graduation certificates at the ceremony."

Humming in understanding, Lance finished up in the bathroom whilst Shiro moved back into the bedroom; when he finally left, he felt a little fresher, breath no longer stale and hair a little less greasy.

If it was one thing he could do without, it was body odour on his graduation day.

When he reentered the bedroom, Shiro was smoothing over a grey jacket on a hanger; it looked like the one Shiro wore in all the press releases from before Kerberos, the uniform Lance had dreamed of wearing all his life.

Then he realised Shiro was wearing his own, black-embellished version, and his heart momentarily stopped.

"Lance," Shiro said slowly, turning on the ball of his foot to face him, "ready?"

Shiro's was tight, with Black velvet on the collar and sleeves, an added golden stripe on the shoulder from the familiar uniform that Lance knew. He'd already completed his decoration, with the Kerberos and graduation medals on his chest being joined by two unfamiliar golden ones that glinted in the yellow room light. The gold braid that hung between his chest and shoulder gave the entire look a regal touch, one that nearly made Lance's knees weak.

His boyfriend was ethereal.

"Earth to Lance?"

He blinked once, twice, and Shiro laughed in front of him.

A white undershirt was tossed his way, caught in a ball at his chest.   
"Rude," Lance shot back, tugging the shirt over his head with a grin, "jacket, Babe?"

Smoothly, Shiro pulled the jacket off the hangar, handing it to Lance to slip his arms into it.  
"Damn, I look good," he bragged, catching himself in the mirror as Shiro stepped forward to tug on the front of the jacket, "we're gonna' look fantastic together, Takashi."

"I know," he replied with a grin, buttoning up Lance's uniform with deft fingers and straightening out his collar with a gentle tug. Where's Shiro's uniform was edged with black, Lance's was with a gentle powder blue, highlighting the grey and gold of the uniform. Sure, he had one less gold stripe than Shiro, but he didn't really care that much when Shiro was slowly stroking the velvet at his collar.

"You look fantastic," he breathed, and Lance felt his cheeks flush as one of Shiro's thumbs moved up to brush his jaw.

"You okay there, Takashi?" Lance taunted with a sly grin, hands moving to Shiro's waist, "do we need to ask the Garrison if we can keep the uniforms for a later date?"

It was Shiro's turn to blush now, pink spreading across his cheeks like a flood.

"Anyway," Shiro said with a cough, moving away from Lance to grab some boxes off the drawers, "ready to get blinged up?"

"Bling me up, Takashi," Lance said with a grin, puffing his chest out, "I think I'm ready."

* * *

 

When a Commander Taylor-Klaus appeared at their door to usher them to a waiting room, Lance had matching gold braid hanging over his chest, similar medals hanging heavily from the uniform.

"Ready?" He asked quietly, as the commander rapped on the door again, "you're gonna' be great."

Shiro leaned over, pressing a kiss to Lance's forehead as he linked their fingers together. "Ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day left y’all!!!!  
> Oh boy this went quickly :0


	7. Buzzing in the breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, space hayfever is both a thing that exists, and a thing that messes up Lance’s immune system like no allergies he’s ever experienced.  
> Shiro helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, space illness + cuddling in bed; anyone else getting deja vu?
> 
> Jokes aside, I didn’t have this started until like, yesterday, and my hay fever addled brain went ‘what if LANCE suffered as well???? Hmm???’  
> It wasn’t until I’d written about 1K that I realised I’d done this all before.
> 
> Either way, enjoy, and thank you all for joining me for Shance Fluff Week once again!!!

It really hadn't been the greatest day for Lance. At all.

First, he'd had to help split up an argument first thing in the morning after he left his room; Keith and Allura had gotten stuck in another large disagreement, one that involved throwing insults across the dining table at what felt like one hundred miles an hour.

"I thought they'd have chilled out by now," Hunk said with a sigh once both had finally exited the room, "apparently not, y'know?"

Then the training deck malfunctioned just as he planned to take out his stress via training. The droid weren't forming properly, resulting in a garbled mess of robotic parts instead of the gladiators he was familiar with. They didn't even move properly, stepping with juddering skips as uneven feet attempted to surge towards him. Even the voice recognition system wasn't working; Coran had to manually turn the programme off from the control pod after it attempted to chase him around the room for half a varga.

So that wasn't possible either.

He could feel the migraine beginning to grow behind his eyes, angry and throbbing between his eyebrows, just to make his situation worse. Migraines like this were rare, but man, they were horrible when he got them.

Shiro shot him a concerned glare over the table at lunch, squinting subtlety midst a conversation with Allura about food goo flavours.

It was around mid-afternoon when Lance finally crashed in his bedroom, letting the moment wash over him. At this point, his migraine-ache-allergy combination had grown into a fully blown wildfire in his forehead. It had been too light outside, altean lights too bright and glaring on his eyes; it almost felt like some kind of scalpel under his skull, stabbing at his brain frantically. The zig-zags that had made their way across his vision had somehow intensified, flashing as they wormed across his eyes. To top it all off, his nose itched like he was about to sneeze any second, and yet, nothing was coming.

He _ached_.

"Lights to ten perfect," he groaned, cringing at the weakness of his own voice, "and can it get a little cooler in here? I'm burning up."

A chill settled in the air, ventilation system increasing the air conditioning in the room with the slightest of hisses, but it didn't really help. Instead, it just made Lance want to pull the blankets up over his shoulders, but-

He needed to get his armour off.

Fighting against his headache, he pushed himself up off the bed and onto his knees. His entire body protested, ache squeezing his bones in rebellion as the zigzags flashed before his eyes despite the darkness of the room.   
It hurt, physically, to whip his chest armour off from over his head, pressure against his forehead increasing again, and he threw the removed armour across the room weakly. His eyes itched again, painfully, an irritated tear deciding at that point to slide down his face.

He hadn't felt this pathetic in a _long time_.

A part of him screamed for painkillers; he knew Coran kept some in a cupboard in the medbay, small little reconstructions that he had made sure humans could take. Grab some of those, take a water pouch from the kitchen, and maybe convince Hunk to bake him something nice, and he would be back on his feet in no time. Maybe they had antihistamines somewhere - it would be worth asking Coran if he saw him-

Then again, lying on his bed in the dark feeling sorry for himself seemed like a good plan too.

As if in agreement, his head throbbed again, and he collapsed back onto the bed with a groan of pain. Of course he would get a migraine in the middle of an important diplomatic cycle, like, what were the odds? Why couldn't it have been someone like Keith who got allergies?

Lance sighed into his pillow again. This wasn't helping.

That was when the room flooded with light, a harsh juxtaposition to the darkness of the room. It hurt, to be honest, and he buried his face further into the pillow.

"Lance?" A voice called from where he assumed was the doorway, and footsteps echoed around them like drum beats as the light died in a hydraulic hiss, "sweetheart, are you okay?"

"'M fine," Lance drawled in reply, voice muffled by the pillow, "just leave me to die for a little while, I'll be okay-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course-"

He was cut off by an incredibly cold object draped over his neck, flinching when the freezing material came into contact with his neck. It wasn't painful though; instead, the pulsing behind his eyes backed off slightly, and relief washed over him with a comfortable chill. Sure, his eyes were still itchy, and his throat still stung, but at least that was one less thing to worry about.

"That better?" the voice said again, mattress dipping next to where Lance was lying, and he hummed happily in reply.

A hand appeared in his hair, gentle and slow-moving, that began to trace circles into the back of his head. "You weren't looking too great at lunch," he explained as Lance let his stinging eyes slowly slide shut, "I guessed you'd be here when you disappeared afterwards - I have water, and painkillers when you're ready."

"You're an angel," Lance replied, grinning as he slowly rolled to face the other person, "can I take those drugs yet?"

Shiro laughed, low and rumbling, and retracted his hand from Lance's hair to reach across to the small table. "Only one," he instructed, quirking an eyebrow as he shook a small pill out from the Altean box, "do you want some water?"

Lance nodded, pushing himself up to sit with his back to the wall as Shiro handed him the pill and a pierced water pouch. One quick sip, and it was gone, and Lance fell back against the wall with a sigh. "Sorry for disappearing on you guys back there," he apologised, one hand reaching up to scratch at his eyes, "I didn't mean to- _ahh, achoo!_ \- completely ditch training."

Before his hands could reach his face, Shiro stopped him, placing the cold flannel back in his hands. "Hold that against the back of your neck, it'll help with the migraine," he said gently, moving Lance's hands up and around his neck, "and seriously, don't worry - you sound like you deserve the rest. Do you know what brought this on?"

With a shrug, Lance took another sip of the water pouch. "I wanna' say it was those big-ass plants on that rainforest planet yesterday," he grumbled in reply, "stupid allergies, always appearing at the worst times-"

"Allergies?" Shiro interrupted with a frown, "do you usually get hay-fever?"

"Not usually," Lance replied, scratching his nose with his free hand, "it was either no reaction at all, or the worst reaction imaginable - there was, like, no in between."

Shiro turned away in thought, pulling a tissue out of a box on the table as Lance's face screwed up in a sneeze again. "I'll talk to Coran about anti-histamines," he mused, taking Lance's once again free hand and running his thumb over his knuckles, "surely he'll have something - if needs be, half an hour in a pod might help in the short term-"

"I don't need a pod, Takashi," Lance said with a weak laugh, squeezing Shiro's hand in time with his laugh, "it'll be over in a day, don't worry."

"If you're sure."

Lance nodded, squeezing his hand again as a concerned smile settled on Shiro's face. "I'm sure. I just need to, I don't know, cry it out or something. Or sneeze it out. Which ever comes first I guess."

Shiro laughed, a little louder and relaxed this time. "Just don't make me ill," he joked, reaching up with his free hand to place his palm against Lance's forehead, "you feel better though, I was worried you were feverish when I found you - those must have been some really bad allergies."

“Really bad,” Lance said, eyes wide in exaggeration, “like, can’t carry on living bad-“

“And yet,” Shiro interrupted with a click of his tongue, “you’re still here.”

“Thought you would be glad about that, dipstick.”

Shiro grinned, leaning over to kiss Lance’s forehead. “Very glad, love - the others will be too, we were getting rather worried.”

“Aw, were the gremlins worried about me?” Lance asked, voice falsely saccharine, and Shiro rolled his eyes playfully.

“Hunk was,” he clarified, “Pidge complained we were overreacting, and Keith said something along the lines of ‘finally’-“

“Rude!” Lance folded his arms across his chest, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes dramatically. “One of these days I’ll be on bed rest for weeks with the space plague, then he’ll be sorry!”

“I’d prefer you didn’t ever get space plague,” Shiro said with a gently chastising tone, “I don’t like it when you’re ill, you worry me.”

“God, sorry _mom_ -“

“You always hide your symptoms,” Shiro suddenly said, voice becoming quiet and low, and he dropped Lance’s hand to run his fingers through chestnut hair, “like, we didn’t even know you were ill until I found you collapsed in here - what if it was worse?”

“Takashi,” Lance said, slightly louder than necessary, and Shiro suddenly shifted to gain eye contact, “I promise I won’t hide anything again.”

“Really?”

“Well,” Lance asked, keening slightly to Shiro’s touch, “do trust me?”

“Completely and unconditionally.”

With that, Shiro moved forwards as Lance opened his arms in invitation, sitting beside him at enough of an angle to gather Lance into his chest. Lance happily nestled his head into the crook of Shiro’s neck, as Shiro secured the cold flannel back around his nape fluidly. He was aware of one metal hand in his hair, adding to the soothing coolness on his aching head as he wrapped his arms around Shiro’s middle.

“Thank you,” he murmured, just loud enough for Shiro to hear, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Shiro replied, hand starting to move gently in his hair, “I hope you feel better soon.”

Lance chuckled, enjoying the feeling of Shiro’s matching laugh reverberating through his chest. “With you here, Takashi? I’ll be back before you know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a really fun week, so thank you all so much!!!  
> See y’all next time!!


End file.
